She Stands Alone
by MyMindRunsWild
Summary: Natalia Romanov is a eight-year old girl in Russia who is being trained to be a spy for the man she hates. The ones she loves the most are gone. She only has herself... Contains flashbacks.
1. Snow

**1. So this is under Captain America The Winter Soldier because it says what year she was born in the movie.**

**2. First ever Marvel fanfic so yesh.**

**3. This is about Natasha's childhood and beyond.**

**4. Please comment and follow!**

* * *

><p>Natalia was not sleeping soundly in her bed. She had been constantly plagued by nightmares and she was too cold. She got up from her bed and looked out the window at the pristine white that covered the ground outside. Russian winter could be deceiving. The pale snow looked beautiful but every Russian knew it could kill you. A few days before one of Natalia's roommates brother died in a terrible accident. Snow had killed him. But she liked snow.<p>

Nobody else she knew did.

But fire had killed her parents, it had almost killed her.

She despised fire.

^00^

It was early morning in Stalingrad,Russia Natalia remembered. She was walking to school on a deliciously cool spring day. When she had gotten there everybody looked uneasy. Natalia had no clue why everybody looked so anxious, so worried. Her best friend Evva Serevrob was usually super hyper and happy. Now she looked pale and scared.

"Evva? What's wrong?" Natalia asked expecting to get an answer. "Nothing" Evva mumbled in a low monotone voice. Natalia knew she was lying. She could tell when someone was lying. It was like a subconscious light flashed in her head if someone was lying.

Natalia's small feet slapped against the cement steps that led into her school. For a seven-year old she was small, but quick and nimble. During recess games when she and her classmates raced, Natalia was always the winner. All the boys were jealous of her and they would always accuse her of cheating. Natalia didn't care, she just liked the feeling of crossing the finish line.

Natalia's teacher Mr. Tsiolkovsky looked fidgety most of the lesson. Natalia was starting to worry. To her it was clear that everybody knew something she did not. Natalia was sitting next to Alek who was a classmate.

Alek was a fat, blonde boy. His hair looked like paper, it was so white. Natalia's own hair was a beautiful fiery red. It matched her emerald-green eyes perfectly.

"Alek? Is there anything going on that I should know about?" Natalia said her voice caked with frustration that nobody was telling her anything. Alek just glanced over at Natalia, he didn't say anything. Natalia scowled at him and then turned around.

What was going on that nobody was telling her about? Natalia asked herself.

Little did she know the answer would come to her soon.

* * *

><p><strong>Tell me if you want more!<strong>


	2. Bombs and Trapdoors

The air raid alarms blasted through the city.

Every child in the room ran to the window. They could clearly see the planes dropping the bombs.

"Children! Run!" yelled Natalia's teacher as every child scrambled out of the room. Almost every child.

Explosions could be seen and heard everywhere. Natalia stayed glued to the window. Later she felt like she couldn't have done anything stupider. Natalia turned around and started to say something to her teacher but nobody was there. Natalia looked frantically around as if that would help her come up with a plan.

She ran to the door but it was locked. Probably jammed somehow. She ran back to the window as explosions rang in her ears. "Help!" she screamed loudly to nobody in particular. It was a lost cause nobody would hear her. Then she remembered the trap door under her teacher's desk. She zigzagged across the classroom towards the desk, missing falling debris.

She had few seconds left. As soon as she saw the handle she dove for it. But it was too late. Something fell on her small foot keeping her on the ground. Natalia screamed a loud, pain filled scream. Then the world went black.


	3. Dying and the Remains of Stalingrad

**Hey peoples!**

**So, the past chapters have been super short but that's cause of time.**

**I'm gonna try and make them longer but I'm not promising anything.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Natalia knew what had happened that day.<p>

She knew perfectly well.

It was no surprise she had gotten kidnapped. H kidnapped countless children left alive in the rubble of Stalingrad. He then loaded them in box cars knowing some of them would suffocate. The ones who remained were put through countless trials to test their strength and intelligence.

Sure. Many children died. Scratch that, 2/3 of them died. The remaining ones were sent to Slovakia, were they were trained as spies for H.

Of course Natalia wasn't surprised.

She was one of those children.

-00-

Natalia woke up to the smell of smoke. She coughed repeatedly before she could regain her bearings. She was still in her small classroom but this time it was on fire. Corpses lay around the classroom, slowly burning in the fire's bright flames. Natalia wanted to scream, but nothing would come out of her dry burning throat. Only coughs and slow gasps, an attempt at taking breaths.

Natalia was pretty sure she would die. There were about 100 pounds worth of debris on her lower body and searing pain shot up her left leg. Her lungs were filling up with the black smoke that was the remains of Stalingrad. It took most of her strength to breath, let alone move her mouth.

Suddenly she heard them. Footsteps that were fast and hurried. Natalia thought quickly. "HELP!" she whispered hoarsely, because yelling wasn't an option. The footsteps receded. Natalia sighed. Of course they didn't hear her. The flames of the fire were slowly burning out but she wasn't going to live even if they were smothered. She could tell debris had fallen on her back as well possibly on her head. Blood was slowly making it's way down her face but her arms were to sore to wipe it off.

"Is there any children in here?" It was a man's voice. Probably not harmed or on the verge of dying thought Natalia as she struggled to keep her head up over the scorching ground. "I'm here!" whispered Natalia weakly."I'm here..."

Then a hand, that came out of nowhere, propped her chin up and her world recessed into darkness.


	4. Box Cars and Lip Reading

Natalia woke to the stuffy air of the box car, the overwhelming smell of dirty children dancing up her nostrils. Her arms were tucked behind her, tied by a measly rope. Natalia sighed, her brother had probably played a prank on her again. Then the horror of the air raid dawned upon her. And she began to cry.

"Are you okay?" said a voice, probably belonging to a boy. Natalia shook her head ruefully and kept it down. Her knees were curled up to her chest and when she looked up there were countless kids. Only two or three including the boy were awake. The rest were sleeping sprawled on top of each other or curled in uncomfortable positions.

"Where…Where are we?" said Natalia. Or tried to say, but her voice was gone. Either the smoke or she had screamed a lot. Probably both. "We're being taken to refugee camps" said the same voice. Natalia looked around until she found the owner of the voice. He was a muscular kid with brown, tousled hair and turquoise eyes.

"Oh" said Natalia. But she wasn't processing everything, not correctly anyways. She turned her head until she could see the bonds that tied her hands together. Something was definitely wrong. "What's your name?" Natalia tried to say while examining the rope. The boy said nothing. Natalia turned her head. She sighed and mouthed question. "Oh, I'm sorry did you ask a question when your head was turned?" he asked. Natalia knew he wasn't being silly because a glitter of guilt took place in his turquoise eyes.

Natalia nodded, waiting for an explanation as to why he hadn't heard her. "I'm sorry, I'm deaf. I can read your lips though. And my name is Abram." He said quickly, as if he'd run out of time and wouldn't be able to finish his sentences. Abram was deaf? How did he go deaf? Was it a disease? Natalia decided not to ask too many questions. He's probably answer if she said more about herself.

"I'm…" Natalia pondered whether it was okay to tell him her name. She settled on the fact that he looked trustworthy. "I'm Natalia Romanov and I'm seven." Abram nodded understanding and as if he was reading her mind he said "I went deaf when I was seven. An air raid. The bombs were right next to us. I'm thirteen now."

An air raid too. Natalia wondered if her family was still alive. Her brother probably wasn't. She started to sob again at the thought. "Hey, hey it's okay. They're taking us to refugee camps and we'll be safe. Right?" Natalia jumped at the word refugee camp. She tried to stop sobbing but it wasn't working. "Abram?" she mouthed between sobs. Then it hit her.

"If they're, whoever they are, taking us to refugee camps… Why are our hands tied?"


	5. Food

**Hello! **

**Sorry for not updating in a while, it was supposed to go up on Saturday but I've been really sick. **

**I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

><p>The line of box cars slowly came to a stop in a snowy field. Children were roused from their sleep, some of them crying. Natalia just sighed, right now she wanted to know why they had handcuffs. Abram had fallen asleep and he wasn't waking up.<p>

It was getting harder to breathe in the box car and Natalia was worried that they wouldn't open the doors. If they didn't, well… That was a question to be answered.

Suddenly a large screeching sound filled the air making some of the children cover their ears. Abram's head jolted up as soon as the sound stopped. "Natalia!" he said gasping. Natalia quickly turned to look at him, making sure he could see her lips. "What? Are you okay?!"

Abram shook his head, his eyes darting wildly around looking for a certain child. "I'm sorry." He whispered. "For what?" Natalia asked her voice filled with worry. "For her! She shouldn't have died! Please...Please…" Abram was now sobbing.

"Abram, who?!" Natalia cried. His head hung low and no words came out of his mouth. Out of nowhere a blinding light hit Natalia's face. "Children! Get up, and form a line." said a gruff voice with a slight Polish accent. Natalia's vision was still dotted with white and black splotches.

She shielded her face from the light that radiated off of the snow. Exhausted children began to get up and wipe the sleep or the tears from their eyes. Natalia was now terrified. The middle of nowhere was not a refugee camp. "COME ON LET'S GO, MOVE YOUR SORRY ASSES!" yelled the man.

Natalia stood still. A quickly recovered Abram yanked her up and shoved her in between one child and him. "Get your hands off m-" she started to yelp but Abram put a finger to his lips. Natalia raised an eyebrow and looked towards the door of the box car. Abram nodded.

As soon as all the children stood in line they were hustled out of the box car, fresh spring air infiltrating their nostrils. When Natalia stepped out, she saw the man who had called them all asses.

He wore a brown trench coat with black boots that went all the way up to his calfs. He wasn't fat but he wasn't muscular although he looked like he could pick up three children or more with ease. What struck Natalia most were two things. He was seven feet tall and he was bald. It was his massive size that intimidated her. His bald head was, well… Strange. Considering it was the middle of winter in Russia. Or wherever they were.

Six more men that looked exactly the same jumped out from the neighboring boxcar and stalked their way towards the children. One of them carried a box that was the size of Natalia. Six men including the one who had shoved them out began to untie the ropes on each child's hands while the one with the box handed them each a gun.

"There is food at the end of the field." dais one of the men. Natalia hadn't realized that she was starving until the mention of the word food. One child piped out "Do we all get food?"

"No" said the man. "Kill if you want it."


	6. His wrinkled hand

**It's short but I promise a looong chapter will be posted tomorrow.**

* * *

><p>They all looked at each other. Blank expressions on pale faces. Pale faces with withering hearts. Tragedy had struck. It was all controlled, in the palm of his wrinkled hand.<p>

Then the sound of gunshots filled the air.

And the snow turned crimson.


End file.
